Building Bonds
by robinyj
Summary: A collection of Paul/Topher comment fics, posted together. Mildly connected - includes slash, h/c, romance and a little action.
1. Genuine Article

**Title: Genuine Article**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash**  
**Spoilers: For the finale, mildly**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.**  
**Author's Note: I've been writing a lot of Paul/Topher comment fic lately and thought I'd put them all up together. There's not a whole lot connecting them but I hope you enjoy. **

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"Topher."

"Ah! Don't do that!" Topher demanded with a jump, frowning dramatically as he looked down at the juice box he had spilt then shifted his gaze quickly to Ballard who was eyeing him critically and making no move to apologize.

"What is it? Genius at work here," Topher said petulantly as he shuffled away nervously.

Ballard walked casually in front of the computer, "Ah, sci-fi message boards, where true genius can always be found."

Scrambling to turn off the screen, Topher flailed and stood protectively in front of his computer, "You'd be surprised. Again, what do you want?"

Paul watched Topher shift restlessly with a satisfied smirk, "Nervous much?"

"No, I'm just naturally … energetic. But you're not exactly my favorite person to have around, alone in my sanctuary. You heard of first impressions, you made one with a tazer! So you'll forgive me that when you're around all I can think is "ow, ow, ow"!" Topher ranted as he paced through the lab, clicking keys here and there, avoiding eye contact but keeping Ballard in his sights at all times.

For his part, Paul laughed at the memory, feeling no remorse whatsoever, "So this is where it happens. Where you wipe people? Steal their identities."

"You really don't get the word "volunteer" do you?" Topher mumbled.

"What's it like?" Ballard demanded.

Topher shrugged, "From this side of the chair it's a grunt and a lightshow. For them, I have no idea, it's impossible for them to remember. By the time it's over they're someone else. Someone … special."

"Someone like you?" Paul commented cruelly. "You say you're a super-genius, you think that happens naturally?"

"I'm not a doll," Topher answered confidently, actually laughing slightly at Ballard's attempt to get in his head.

"How can you be sure? Dr. Saunders …"

"Chicken and the egg my non-friend. I created this technology, therefore it could not have been used to create this wonderful brain you see before you. I came first," Topher explained, tearing open a chocolate bar and taking a victorious bite.

"Well, the brain may have come first. I never said you might not be a real person, I implied you might not always have been _this_ person," Ballard elaborated but Topher continued to shake his head.

"Look Prince Charming, you don't like me, I get it, I'm a cruel, heartless beast for what I do to our poor defenseless actives who live a life of luxury better than I'll ever get, but your little mind games, not gonna work. I know I'm real, I have undeniable, irretractable proof," Topher announced triumphantly. Ballard scoffed.

"What? Photos? Memories? Those can all be forged apparently."

"Unh, unh, unh, not memories, insight," Topher continued. "If I was a doll I would have been made a lot less annoying."

Paul nodded, "Can't argue with that."

"Ha! See, told ya. 100% real! I'm even a natural blond," Topher bragged, turning to fiddle with one of his consoles. Moments later a hand yanked on his shoulder, hauling him to his feet and shoving him up against the wall. "Please, no tazer! No tazer!"

Paul smirked as he pressed his body up tighter against Topher's and kissed him hard, knocking the genius's head against the wood. Topher panted but didn't resist, in fact he responded instinctually opening up his mouth and even leaning forward for more when Paul pulled away, smirking.

"But … what?" Topher asked breathlessly, eyes huge and blinking as he was now completely confused and really turned on.

"I had to be sure you were the genuine thing. I'm sick of chasing dolls," Paul explained, to which Topher smiled lopsidedly and more than welcomed the next bruising kiss. Despite the arousal when Paul pulled away roughly Topher still flinched from his powerful movements.

"So, what can we do about this nervousness issue?"

Topher shrugged, "Bonding? Do you like video games?"


	2. Changing the Rules

**Title: Changing the Rules**  
**Author: Robinyj**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash**  
**Spoilers: For the finale, mildly**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.**  
**Word Count: 604**

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"I refuse to believe this is an actual requirement to working here," Paul commented as he tested the weight of the weapon in his hand.

"Well then you should have read the fine print on your contract," Topher replied as he came out of the wipe room with a gun of his own.

"I did read it, twice, just to make sure I wasn't 'volunteering' for anything I didn't intend to," Ballard said.

Topher shrugged innocently then hefted his gun onto his shoulder and pulled down his goggles, "Well then you should have read the micro-fine print because there is no way you are qualified to protect our precious actives if you can't beat me in a game of laser tag."

"You do realize I'm a trained, FBI agent, right?" Paul mentioned, his tone indicating he thought he was going to kick Topher's ass at this game.

"You do realize I'm a super-genius, right?" Topher replied with a smirk. He hit a final key on his computer console and then reached for the light switch. "Guns activate in thirty seconds!"

Running gleefully he switched off the lights and bolted down the stairs to take cover quickly. He hid behind a pillar and squinted behind him in the dim light to see where Ballard was going to take cover.

_Uh oh_, thought Topher, he didn't see the FBI agent anywhere. Apparently he was more of a stealth fighter than a shoot-out kind of guy. Topher could deal with that. Dropping onto his stomach he crawled silently across the floor just as his gun and vest beeped to life indicating the game could officially begin. Seconds later he reached the relative safety that could be found kneeling behind the couch next to the fountain. With his back protected by the cushions he swung his gun around in front of him, ready to spot his quarry the second he tried to move across his line of sight. Long seconds passed and there was nothing until Topher heard a brief sound of movement from behind him. Spinning around he peeked his head over the top of the couch, gun ready to destroy his enemy but there was nothing there either.

_Hmm, he's good,_ Topher admitted in his head as he stood a little higher to look around more. No sooner had he moved than a massive weight hit him from behind, flipping him to land sprawled on the couch cushions behind him.

"Tag," Ballard smirked as he stood above the genius triumphantly.

"Laser tag! Laser!" Topher reminded him petulantly holding up his gun as he coughed from the impact of his flight through the air. "No physical contact."

"Oh, so I can't do this?" Paul asked, leering as he jumped over the couch and spread himself over Topher's limp form, rough hands quickly sliding up the blond's shirt to explore the skin underneath.

Topher shuddered, closed his eyes and stuttered a reply, "Well … not technically but …"

He was cut off by Paul's lips crushing his mouth, pushing him deep into the cushions as Ballard's exploring hands started to move lower, out from his shirt and down into his waistband. Topher whimpered.

Paul came up for air and announced, "New rules. All physical contact. Just be lucky I tackled you at the couch and not when you were crawling on your knees."

"Well, I'm sure something can be arranged."


	3. Blackmail

**Title: Blackmail**  
**Author: Robinyj**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash**  
**Spoilers: For the finale, mildly**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.**  
**Word Count: 297**

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"You're still here."

Topher turned at the sudden voice, amazed by the FBI agent's sneakiness.

"Yeah, I kind of work here. You see everything here," Topher replied, indicating the entire room and structure. "This is all me. I'm kind of awesome like that."

"I know that, I mean you're still here when DeWitt told you to go home and get some rest … six hours ago," Paul pointed out. "Yet you're still here."

"I know, I know I said I'd leave, but these active file catalogues aren't going to update and diagnose themselves, are they?" Topher asked rhetorically, then looked thoughtful. "Unless of course I created an algorithm to run in the background of all my imprint programs and automatically sort any updates …"

As Topher's mind was getting started a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his chair.

"Up. You're going home. You haven't slept in two days," Ballard pointed out.

Topher sulked, "But I can finish …"

"Tomorrow. Come quietly or I tell DeWitt you disobeyed a direct order. You know how she feels about insubordination."

Topher's eyes widened, "No, no, no, no, don't tell her. She'll cut down my snack budget and that … that's not good. Man needs his sugar."

Ballard's fingers still hadn't left Topher's arm and he sidled closer to the scientist to ask suggestively, "And what do I get for not telling?"

Topher smiled playfully, his work forgotten as Paul's fingers slid up to the back of his neck, "I'll do anything."

"Yes, you will," Paul agreed. "Some things you'll even do twice."


	4. Trapped

**Title: Trapped**  
**Author: Robinyj**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher, Whiskey**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash, little bit of violence**  
**Spoilers: For the finale**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.**

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Topher was coming back from a meeting with DeWitt and Boyd about some new security measures when he heard the sounds of the Wipe Chair activating. He furrowed his brow, Ivy wasn't allowed to imprint actives by herself yet and no one else knew how to work the equipment. Figuring Ivy was running a diagnostic or something after his poor baby took a bullet to her brain a few weeks earlier he burst through the doors to check on her.

"And you are fiddling with my precious …"

He stopped. Ivy was not in the room. In fact, the only person in the room was the one who was slowly being elevated into a sitting position by the chair, feral smile plastered across her face.

"Doctor …" Topher started to say, but they had both known for over a week that she wasn't Saunders. Not originally and definitely not now, not with that smile. She had downloaded one, maybe even more personalities into her mind, and he didn't like the way they were all looking at him. Topher started to back away. "Whiskey."

"Mmmm, yeah, it's good to be back!" Whiskey exclaimed, rising gracefully to her feet to stand nose to nose with Topher. "I bet you missed me too. That doctor chick, she was one boring piece of work. It was time for an upgrade!"

"But … but you said you knew who you were. Why …?" As Topher asked his question he circled back into the room, right hand desperately feeling under the table top for the emergency alarm.

New security measures my ass, he thought to himself.

"I did know who I was. I knew I wasn't finished, not all there. Now I'm complete! And it feels great!" Whiskey shouted, her fist coming down to smash painfully onto Topher's fingers just before they found the emergency button.

"Ah!" he shouted, trying to pull free but she pushed down harder. "No, please, need those, typing and all, very essential."

She smirked and grabbed the front of his shirt to toss him away from the alarm button and onto the floor. He landed on his back with a grunt while she closed the door. He was trapped.

"You weren't trying to call anyone were you? Because I was hoping it would just be the two of us for awhile," Whiskey said smoothly as she knelt down and straddled his hips. She made it seem sexual but he was not turned on in the least.

"Whiskey, would you like a treatment?" he breathed out desperately.

She laughed, cruelly, maniacally and backhanded him across the face, "You really think that's going to work on me? I'm not a little puppet anymore."

"Worth a shot," Topher mumbled, cringing from the blow.

"If you wanted to get your face pounded in, then yeah, I guess it was worth it," Whiskey hissed as she pulled him slightly off the ground by his shirt collar and then slammed his head back down into the ground. He gasped and whimpered in pain to which she made tsk, tsk noises.

"Topher, Topher, Topher, you're like this big kid who gets to play with the best dolls in the world! Not too fun when the dolls play back, is it?" she asked huskily as she leaned down to lick a trail up the side of his face to the bloody cut above his eye. "I want to play a game."

Trying not to hyperventilate Topher attempted to push himself away all the while rambling, "Sure, I love games! I am a games master of sorts. I've got tetris, monopoly, laser tag, there's a football around here somewhere …"

Her hand crushing his jaw stopped his rant.

"Football," she decided. "You're the ball."

That's when he shocked even himself when he actually tried to fight back. Bucking his hips and grabbing her shoulders he tried to push her off him but she was strong and well balanced, and apparently implanted with ninja skills because he never even saw the fist coming that connected with his temple. She stood over him and kicked him in the stomach, eliciting a long moan from him which must have been loud enough to hear through the walls because seconds later the doors burst open to reveal Paul Ballard in all his FBI, hero-to-the-rescue, glory. He took a moment to assess the situation and Topher helped him along by pointing at Whiskey.

"Tazer! Tazer! Now!"

Whiskey tried to lunge at Ballard but he had well-earned ninja skills of his own. He blocked her strike and pressed his tazer into her neck until she slumped unconscious onto the floor.

"Topher …?" Paul questioned as he moved towards the trembling younger man.

Topher was shaking his head as if denying blame, "She … she implanted herself! With, with I don't know, more than one mind. She tried to Alpha, upgrade … not my fault!"

Paul placed a hand on the scientist's arm to calm him down, "Topher, I was asking if you were all right, not what happened."

"Oh, well then I'm great … except for the shaking and the intense fear and the incredible pain, I'm just great, thanks," Topher replied, his stutter of fear dissipating quickly with Ballard here. He laughed mirthlessly, "Of course, now we have no doctor to take care of me though."

Paul laughed affectionately, "I know someone who'll take care of you. Come on."

End.


	5. Rewards

**Title: Rewards**  
**Author: Robinyj**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher, (Adelle POV)**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash, sex described, not explicit**  
**Spoilers: For the finale, mildly**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.**  
**Word Count: 843  
Author's Note: The challenge was Paul/Topher, Rewards from Adelle's POV, which is why this one is a little different.**

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When she first invited him to sign on at the Dollhouse as part of their in-Dollhouse security team Ballard had asked what was in it for him. First of all, she explained, if he worked for her then she wouldn't have to have him killed or sent to the attic, a definite bonus, but also, as an employee he would be able to watch over his precious Caroline/Echo all he wanted, constantly ensuring her safety. The idea appealed to him and she never called him on the fact that she knew he was also secretly thinking of ways of breaking Caroline out. Let him keep his fantasies, it's what this place was all about.

But after a few weeks of seeing Echo every day, safe and sound and nothing more than an empty shell that shows only glimpses of insight or intelligence, Adelle notices Ballard's focus starts to wane away from his original prize. She knows he now realizes that's not the girl he had come to save, that girl was locked away in a "wedge" somewhere and the listless, monotone body doing yoga for the third time that day was not her. It was at this point that she began to grow concerned that she might not be able to trust Paul Ballard to remain loyal if he had no true attachment to the Dollhouse since he no longer felt bonded to Echo. But then she noticed something else; that Ballard was spending an unusual amount of time in the lab with Topher. At first they just talked and Adelle assumed Ballard was following his training, doing reconnaissance and trying to find out how all the equipment worked. But they never seemed to be talking about that.

From the video feed in her office Adelle would watch as Topher casually tossed Ballard a juicebox which he would catch and open up with a strange familiarity. Then they would sit at Topher's computer station and continue talking, Topher usually with grand gestures that provoked the only smiles she ever saw on Ballard's face. She had to zoom in to see that their legs were entwined underneath the desk. After that she watched them more closely, noticed the smiles in meetings, the gleeful glimpses Topher shot the former agent and the way Ballard's hands stayed on Topher's shoulder just a bit too long during conversation. It didn't take long to realize that in Ballard's mind Echo's dull, listlessness had been outshined by Topher's energy and undeniable brilliance. She had no doubt that they were having a relationship but she allowed and even encouraged it, knowing she needed Topher happy and Ballard attached to something in the Dollhouse as a reward for his loyalty. She continued to watch them, mostly out of curiosity but also to ensure the relationship was going well – if anything happened between the two of them it would be a mess.

As she was packing up late one night she noticed from her surveillance feeds that both their cars were still in the parking lot even though the Actives had already been put in their pods for the night. Curious, she switched her video feed to the lab and her eyes widened. They had never done that before.

Ballard and Topher were locked together at the mouth and hips, lips meeting furiously while their crotches seemed to detest that they were both still clothed. Topher helped take care of that and broke away from Paul long enough to pull his shirt up over his head, revealing the fantastically chiseled body underneath. Ballard wasted no more time though and brought his lips forward again, using one hand to cup the back of Topher's head to bring them as close as possible while his other hand ripped open Topher's button-up shirt with a single pull then pushed it down his arms. That done they backed up into the imprint room where Topher pushed Ballard down into the imprint chair then quickly straddled him, lips fighting as hands hungrily explored everywhere. She could see the chair was completely deactivated; they would be using it for nothing more than its convenient, reclined position.

As things continued to escalate and Topher gasped when Paul's hand found its way beneath his boxers Adelle reluctantly decided to give them their privacy and shut off the camera. Well, at least their relationship seemed to be doing well, but she huffed at the fact that they would take it so far in the lab itself and started to plan their reprimand. Then she looked at the calendar and sighed, knowing she would in fact not be bringing this little incident up tomorrow when she saw them.

It was Topher's birthday. Grabbing her purse, she left and made herself forget about the entire thing. She would consider it his present.


	6. Traumatized

**Title: Traumatized**  
**Pairing/Characters: Paul/Topher**  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Warnings: Slash**  
**Spoilers: For the finale, mildly. Anything Alpha related.**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the dollhouse and profit in no way from my fic.  
Author's Note: Another separate comment_fic with the boys. Not connected to previous ones, but technically takes place before my other fic "Broken". **

If there was one thing to be said about the Dollhouse, they encouraged people to be workaholics. Not only did Topher have an assistant to bring him any snack, beverage or sugary treat his heart could desire, he also had an on-site apartment to stay in. It wasn't as spacious or well decorated as his own apartment but after spending three sleepless days diagnosing, analyzing and fixing the glitches in the Active Wipe Software, he was more than willing to collapse into the much closer bed the on-site apartment offered and fall into oblivion.

He had been sound asleep for about four hours when Paul came in. Topher had sent him a practically incoherent text about not going home that night so Paul had decided to join him when he was done working on tracking his latest leads to Alpha. As he came into the bedroom he smiled, loosening his tie as he watched Topher sleep, splayed out on his stomach, Batman boxers just visible underneath the loose sheets. He took a moment to enjoy observing the scientist during the only time he was ever still and silent, then moved into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

In the bedroom Topher continued sleeping soundly until a jarringly loud alarm woke him up, shocking him with its intensity. He sat upright, startled and his breathing got even heavier when he realized what was happening, that the sound blasting through his bedroom was the intruder alert warning. Someone was in the Dollhouse, uninvited.

"No, no, no, not again," he mumbled, fear ratcheting up as he started to hyperventilate. There was only one person who ever 'intruded' on the Dollhouse and that was Alpha, the psychotic doll he had accidentally created who liked to kill people right after he methodically sliced them up. Scrambling out of bed Topher tripped in the sheets and landed hard on his stomach on the floor. The wind was knocked out of him, causing his brain to shut down even more from fear. Acting instinctively he just tried to escape, to get away, to be anywhere other than near Alpha. Even as he gasped for breath he crawled towards the corner to try to hide, images of dead, sliced up dolls replaying in his mind in horrific detail. That's when he heard the bedroom door open, just barely noticeable over the blast of the alarm, but there was definitely someone in his room. He flipped to his back so he could face his assailant head on, eyes desperately searching for a weapon, but then there was that beautiful voice.

"Topher?"

He couldn't respond. An exhalation of pure relief and agony was all that would come out when he recognized the voice.

"Topher," Paul said again as he came around the bed, finding the younger man shaking and wide-eyed in the corner of the room. He knelt down beside him and touched his shoulder gently, "It's all right, there's no intruder. It's just a drill. You're safe. I've got you."

With those words Topher collapsed onto him, reveling in the warmth and safety of his arms.

"Not again, please. I can't. Not ever," he mumbled incoherently, unable to stop the images and the shaking.

"You're safe, I promise," Paul repeated, holding the smaller man tightly, rocking him while they sat on the floor. "I'm right here. It's just a drill, I swear. We sent out an email to warn everyone, you must have been too busy to check yours."

Topher nodded absently in response, "What if he does come back? I won't be able to … I can't handle …"

Paul didn't let him say anymore, he just hushed him with a kiss full of promises.

"I won't let that happen, all right. I'm going to find Alpha and stop him. He'll never come back here Topher, he'll never hurt you again," Paul continued to rock the younger man and pressed a kiss into his hair. "I swear."

End

I love these two!!!


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